


My end and my beginning

by Bates



Series: Tumblr prompts [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cas using Dean as a canvas, M/M, Painting, Shower Sex, painter!Cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-27
Updated: 2015-06-27
Packaged: 2018-04-06 11:39:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4220283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bates/pseuds/Bates
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The paints supposed to go where?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	My end and my beginning

**Author's Note:**

> you-are-bucky-barnes **asked:** _Drunk!Destiel "The paints supposed to go where?" (If you include the aftermath of the prompt I would love you forever) Pleaaaasseeeee :)_

Dean and Castiel had moved in together fresh out of college. Castiel’s apartment had been their best option, so Dean had packed his bags and moved in with him. Now though, they were finally getting a house to the _both_ of them.

            Picking it out had been _hell_. They visited four or five houses, but each time _something_ had been bugging either of them. The first house they visited had been wonderful, with beautiful floors, big rooms, everything. Only it didn’t have a yard and considering that Castiel wanted to get a dog or be able to sit in the sun and plant some pants, it was out of the question. Dean absolutely _hated_ the second, which Cas loved and god forbid that third house. At least his boyfriend had hated that one as well.

            The fourth one had been _perfect_ however for the both of them. Castiel had a room where he could paint, Dean had a glorious kitchen and there was enough room outside for a tiny vegetable plot and maybe some kids stuff, if they should ever want to adopt.

            The first few days after moving in where, well, hell. There were boxes everywhere and stuff fell. Cas had lost count of how often he’d cut his feet open on shards of glass that were still on the floor from a fallen vase or plate. Either Dean or Cas – both blamed the other – had forgotten to label half of the boxes, so half of their stuff was shattered all around the house. At least one box of kitchen utensils stood in their bedroom (that after a week still didn’t have a bed) and there were at least two boxes of Castiel’s painting stuff missing.

            Dean and Cas had wanted to celebrate being in their _own_ house for a week though, so they went the only logical way: beer. Castiel had wanted wine – one day, he would turn into the most cliché artist boyfriend Dean had ever seen – but eventually settled with beer.

            He was mixing paints and throwing them together for some spot on his painting. Dean had no clue what it was going to be if he was honest, he’d only started it an hour ago and most part of it had been sketching out the scene. From where Dean was lying on the ground, beer held loosely in his hands, he could barely bake out the faint silver outlines.

            “What’re you working on?” He propped himself up on his elbows, looking at Cas with a smile on his lips. Okay maybe he was a bit drunker than he thought, because his eyes were like stars.

            “You’ll see, tomorrow.” That little curious head tilt still threw him sometimes. That, and the fact that Cas was painting without a shirt on. The vents were somewhere in the boxes and the heat in the apartment  had started rising during the day. So naturally, his ever so shy at the start of their relationship had been walking around showing off his barely there abs _all day_. And he wasn’t even allowed to touch.

            “You know you look hot like that, right?” Dean muttered, pushing himself up on his feet. “And it’s _unfair_.”

            “Why?” Castiel actually had the decency to look smug while saying it. “Because I wanted you to work so we could _maybe_ break in the bed later?” There was a short silence. “Like we did the rest of the house? Because we did that day one remember.” Dean snaked his arms around Castiel, head resting on his shoulder.

            “And it was memorable.” He nuzzled Cas’s neck, leaving gentle kissed down it and his shoulder. Dean couldn’t keep from half smiling as Castiel’s brush slipped and mixed in a colour that wasn’t supposed to be in.

            “Dean,” Cas half sighed, half wined. “Come on, let me at least _start_ the painting – or not.” _Victory_. Castiel always seemed to forget that Dean knew almost all of his sensitive spots, _including_ his earlobe. His boyfriend must have completely forgotten about the paint brush in his hands as he turned around to catch Dean’s lips.

            There was a bright pink line across his cheek and it tingled. At least it didn’t stop Cas from turning his head up and pressing a soft kiss on his lips, the same line now mirrored on his face.

            “I thought you would stop painting,” Dean breathed against his lips, “didn’t know that I was your canvas now. Cas. The paint belongs on the canvas, _not.._ ”

“The paints supposed to go where?” He really shouldn’t have said that. “Because I think that I have my canvas, _right here_.”

 

Ten minutes later, Dean was on the ground on his back, Castiel straddling his back while he painted. He had absolutely _no_ idea why it was so arousing, but he was _aching_. Damned Cas knew it too, shifting every once in a while, _taunting_ him.

“Done!” Cas was grinning, his mischievous grin. “Don’t move – I want a picture.”

“What did you draw?”

“An angel,” Cas muttered, shoving him the phone. “You, essentially. It’s a rough draft but.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Cas. That’s gorgeous.” He would kiss his angel, but he would get paint all over the floor and cleaning that off was _so_ not in the job description.

“Wrong, Dean. You know I’m named after Cassiel, not Jesus.” Maybe Cas had some too much beer too, because he was honest to god chuckling. “Maybe we should wash this off now.” This hands slid down his sides. “You know. A shower.”

 

Dean dragged him to the bathroom, not even waiting for Cas to put his tubes of paint away. They stripped along the way, pants discarded somewhere in the hallway, underwear right in front of the bathroom. He’d waited for too damn long and Cas had teased him just too much. That shifting each time after he switched colours, when he rinsed his brushes out, to add just a little bit of water to his paint. It was pure torture. So now _he_ would get what he had wanted to do ever since Cas took off his shirt around two pm.

            “Eager,” Castiel muttered as Dean pushed him back against the shower wall, the smile faultering as Dean started moving his kisses from Cas’s mouth to his neck, ghosting over his collarbone, pausing, asking for permission. “Do you even have to ask?”

            Dean took pride in the little gasps coming from Cas’s lips as he sucked on the skin, gently grazing the skin with his teeth. After years, he knew how to make it good for his boyfriend, how much he loved the slow stimulation.

            “I’m going to make it good,” Dean muttered against his ribs, letting his tongue slide along the gentle indents of his ribs, the almost defined abs. “Show you how proud I am of my gorgeous, fucking handsome boyfriend.” His lips trailed down, sliding along his hips down to the inside of Cas’s tighs and just gently grazing along his cock. He’d get there later, there was teasing to be done.

            Cas was panting so beautifully, legs opened up for him, inviting him, trusting him. After all these years, he opened himself up so easily, so quicly that it still left Dean surprised half of the time. His hands rested on Cas’s hips, thumbs turning tiny circles in the skin, massaging the muscles.

            “Oh fuck,” Cas muttered, biting back a groan as Dean licked a stripe up his cock, tongue coming down to tease the head. He took Cas in bit by bit, more focussed on his partner, on the way that his muscles clenched than on technique. It was probably the sloppiest blow job, with water running in his eyes and Dean getting lost in Cas’ tiny reactions, the way that he completely tensed up, trying to warn him before coming. Dean joined him soon after. He should probably be ashamed that he didn’t even need any stimulation, that all he needed was Castiel whimpering his name, but with Cas, he wasn’t ashamed one bit.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, you can find me on [Tumblr](http://imaginecas.tumblr.com).


End file.
